Uptown Girl
by revivingophelia
Summary: She's not quite what he thinks... Eve Torres, Dean Ambrose.


Title: Uptown Girl

Author: Karen U/revivingophelia

Pairing/Character: Eve Torres, Dean Ambrose

Disclaimer: no one you recognize belongs to me

Rating: PG/K+

Summary: She's not quite what he thinks...

Spoilers: none, really. It could be set before Eve left, or pretending she never left at all...

Warnings: mild language.

I now have this song stuck in my head.

* * *

He fought the urge to punch the wall behind him, the man making a face as he deliberately relaxed his hands so that they were no longer curled into fists. Shaking his head, he began pacing back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the club, having to take a quick step back to avoid running into a person that was just stepping outside. Arching a brow, he looked down at the wide-eyed woman that was in front of him, watching as her gaze moved over his face. She flicked a glance beyond him, as if she expected someone to be there, then looked back at him.

"Where are your friends?" she asked, and he lifted both brows in response.

"Where are yours?"

"Rosa's staying behind with Primo and Epico," the woman replied, flipping her long hair back over her shoulder. She pursed her lips as she looked at him, the woman starting to reach toward him, then dropping her hand back down to her side. There was a flicker in her eyes that might have been concern. "You're bleeding a little."

"Cena got a lucky shot in, the bastard," he muttered, reaching up to wipe at the streak of blood. Eve's brows rose as she took in the sight of his knuckles as he wiped the blood away.

"Given the way your knuckles look, I'd say you got some lucky shots in, too. Either that, or you accidentally hit the wall a few times," the diva said, and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I mostly hit Zack Ryder, at least until Cena stepped in and made it two-on-one," he said, and Eve shook her head, rolling her eyes.

"Always has to play the hero. I hope you punched him at least once."

"I may have given him a nosebleed," he replied, a little surprised to see the smirk on the woman's face at that one, like she genuinely appreciated the idea of Cena bleeding. Yeah, he knew that Eve'd had problems with Cena in the past, but somehow... He'd just never pictured her as the type to really enjoy seeing people actually get busted up.

"Good. I'm sure he deserved it," Eve said, then tilted her head to the side, looking up at him again. She had absolutely no fear in her eyes, no appearance of nerves, which was a bit of a difference from the way a pretty good portion of the company tended to look at him. Of course, he was alone right now, which probably made a difference. "So, I told you where my friends are. Where are yours?" she asked, the same question from earlier, and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Not here yet. They had a couple of errands to run."

"Maybe you should have waited until they showed before picking a fight. Even one you should have been able to win," the woman said, digging in her purse as she spoke, then pulling out a Kleenex and stretching up to press it against the cut near his eye.

"Hey-"

"You're still bleeding," she told him, eyes on his and, after a moment, he let his hand fall again, no longer reaching up to push her hand away. "Next time you decide to beat up Ryder, make sure Cena isn't around. Also? I'd really like to see it myself. I'm sorry I missed it earlier. My group must have been in a different room," she said, and he nodded slightly. The club behind them was divided into multiple rooms with different types of music.

"You know, you don't have to play nursemaid or whatever."

"Before Cena got involved, did you beat up Zack Ryder?"

"More or less."

"Then consider it a show of appreciation, Ambrose," she told him, and he frowned, clearing his throat slightly before speaking again.

"Dean."

"Excuse me?"

"Call me Dean. You know, first name instead of last," he said, and the woman nodded.

"I can do that," Eve replied, then frowned slightly as she stepped back, lowering her hand and studying the cut on his head. "Are you planning to wait for Reigns and Rollins to get here?"

Ambrose shook his head. "Nah. Figure I'm not likely to be welcome back in there, especially with backup," he muttered, and the woman arched a brow.

"Then why are you still here? Where's your car?"

"Seth and Roman have the rental. I took a cab here, and I called for one to pick me up-"

"Are you staying at the Comfort Inn on fifth?" she asked, referring to the hotel that probably half the roster was at for the night, and he nodded.

"Yeah."

"Then come on. I'll take you back. I have my own car," she told him, not even waiting to see if he was going to follow her, the woman already heading for the vehicle. Frowning slightly, he watched her walk for a moment, a little surprised by this turn of events and not sure if he should take her up on the offer... But his other options were to either take the cab he'd called - which would cost about twenty bucks or so - or to wait for Seth and Roman to get there, which could be another half an hour or more. Taking the offer of a ride back to the hotel from Eve was probably his best option.

Walking quickly, the wrestler caught up to the woman with only a few long strides. "Are you okay to drive?" he asked her, and she looked over at him, arching a brow.

"I wouldn't get behind the wheel if I wasn't. All I had was chips and salsa and a couple of Diet Cokes," she told him with a shrug. "I don't drink. Haven't in a few years, and even then... In college, I was typically sober sister. Can never be too careful and all of that, you know. Because some guys out there apparently take the fact that a woman's had something to drink as an open invitation."

"If a woman wants to have something to drink, then she should be able to without worrying that some asshole's going to try to attack her or something," Ambrose muttered, and Eve nodded.

"My thoughts exactly. I've actually taught a guy or two a lesson about that by leaving them on the ground clutching themselves when they wouldn't leave me or one of my friends alone," she said, then shrugged. "I can be a little vicious when provoked."

"I don't doubt that," he replied, looking at her over the top of the rental car they were standing at, the two of them locking eyes for a moment before Eve pressed the button to unlock the car and the two of them climbed inside. She flicked a look at him again, her gaze sliding over his face, then down to his bruised knuckles.

"You're going to want to put something on that," she told him, shifting slightly in her seat, and he nodded.

"I got it covered," he replied, putting on his seatbelt, then sitting back while Eve turned the car on, then started to back the vehicle up, Ambrose taking the opportunity to look at the woman beside him, more than a little surprised by the fact that he was currently in Eve Torres's rental car.

The truth was, he'd kind of figured that Eve was the kind of girl that would never take a moment to talk to a guy like him, much less offer him a ride. There was just something about her that made him think of high-class rich chicks. Yeah, okay, she was a wrestler just like he was, but she looked way too at home in her fancy business clothes and she just sort of had this... shine... about her. Like she had more class than the other women or something. Not saying that the other women in the company didn't have class - he thought some of them did - but that she somehow seemed... classier. Maybe it was the business clothes or the fancy degree he'd heard she had. Maybe it was the way she walked around like she was above it all. He'd figured her for the type to have had a pampered life. Maybe she hadn't grown up rich, but he'd guess she'd grown up at least upper-middle class. Free ride to college, but he'd heard that she earned that with those brains of hers. A girl like her had probably never had it rough. Probably wouldn't look twice at a guy like him. Hell, there probably wasn't a guy in the company that she'd look quite right with, except maybe Del Rio or something, with his whole rich-guy thing.

And yet Del Rio wasn't the one sitting in her car; he was.

"So... Is it okay to ask why you got into the fight with Ryder?" Eve asked him then, pulling him from his thoughts, and Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"He's an ass that deserved it," he replied. "Plus, he irritates the hell out of me just by existing."

"Fair enough," Eve said, smiling slightly, her gaze flicking over to him as he reached out to press the button to turn the radio on, the man then starting to flip through the stations. "Have you seen those stupid tights he's started wearing?"

"The ones with 'push me' on his ass? I'd like to give him a good push, that's for sure. Maybe off a cliff," Dean told her, pausing as he reached a station that seemed to be playing music from the eighties. The sounds of a familiar old song by Billy Joel started playing, and he smirked slightly, thinking that the song kind of fit right now. His smile widened when he realized that Eve was humming along to the song. "What did you ever see in that guy anyway?" he asked after a moment, and Eve snorted.

"Nothing. I tried letting him down easy, playing the friend card and all of that. One time I told him I couldn't go out with him because I had to wash my hair. None of it worked. So I went bitch on him. And it worked. And I'm the one that ended up with pay per view matches and a title over her shoulder while he ended up dressing up as a witch just to get attention," the woman replied, rolling her eyes. "I don't know why he ever thought a guy like him could be my type."

"Not enough of a pretty rich boy?" Dean asked before he could stop himself as Eve pulled the car into a parking space at the hotel, the woman putting the car into park before answering him... Leaning in close and looking up at him from beneath her lashes as she did so.

"Who wants a rich pretty boy? I prefer a guy that's at least as tough as I am," she told him, her eyes locked on his as she spoke... Dean's gaze moving over her face, but before he could say or do anything, she pulled back, looking through the windshield at the front of the hotel. "Looks like your friends are just about to leave. Perfect timing," Eve said, and Ambrose nodded, the two of them quickly unbuckling their seatbelts and exiting the car. Dean knew the precise moment that the others saw him, because Roman stopped short in surprise and he could see Seth's eyes widen even from twenty feet away. As he and Eve approached the others, Dean could tell the exact moment his friends registered the cut on his face, because the surprise turned to frowns.

"What happened?" Rollins wanted to know, and Ambrose shrugged.

"I got angry that Zack Ryder exists. Punches were thrown. Cena decided to intervene around the time Ryder was about to start crying," he said, then looked over at Eve. "Thanks for the ride back."

"No problem. But next time you beat up Zack, I'd like to be around to actually witness it," the woman told him, then reached over, brushing her fingers over his bruised knuckles. "Make sure to put something on this."

"I will," he told her, then blinked in surprise when Eve rose to her toes and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek before heading off, slipping between Roman and Seth to head into the hotel.

"What was that all about?" Seth managed to ask after a moment of surprised silence, and Dean shrugged.

"Not sure yet," he said, watching as the woman made her way through the hotel lobby. "But I'll let you know when I figure it out."

The End


End file.
